


a matter of trust

by wistfulwatcher



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Trust Issues, Wall Sex, cat knows about supergirl, unestablished relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 01:56:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6219100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wistfulwatcher/pseuds/wistfulwatcher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You don’t trust me.” It’s a bit of a non sequitur, but suddenly Cat’s presence, Cat’s <i>anger</i> starts to click.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a matter of trust

**Author's Note:**

> for supercat march madness on tumblr, and from an anon prompt for wall sex

It’s late, Kara is exhausted from a fight with a Fort Rozz prisoner down by the docks, and all she wants to do is finish inhaling her takeout and go to bed. So naturally when she starts to dig into her second carton of Lo Mein, there’s a knock at the door because that’s the kind of day it’s been. 

Kara looks over the arm of the couch she’s sprawled against, and narrows her eyes, peeking through the door to see—

Jerking upright, she nearly drops the noodles to the ground, because why _on earth_ would Cat Grant be outside of her apartment at midnight?

Fumbling with the Chinese food box, she finally looks at what she’s doing and sets it on the coffee table. She stands and runs her hands over her sweatpants, hoping she isn’t staining them with sauce or grease or anything else that will cause Cat to grimace when she opens the door.

Why she cares about offending Cat when she is so _clearly_ the one intruding on _her_ is something Kara can’t identify.

Cat knocks again, and Kara steps away from the couch, stumbling a bit on the edge of a fallen blanket as she yells, “Coming!” and maybe uses her super speed to cut across her apartment. 

“Ms. Grant,” Kara says when she opens the door, though her confusion is evident in the inflection of her boss’s name. Cat’s lips are pursed, eyes narrowed, her purse over one arm, and she’s wearing the same designer dress she’d had on at the office hours ago. 

She looks perfect—and pissed, if Kara had to wager. Only, it’s not clear why. Things have been pretty good between them—almost back to where they’d been before Adam, even—since Cat found out about Supergirl for real. 

“Is everything alright?” Kara finally asks, after a moment of Cat standing silently in her hallway. Still saying nothing, she brushes past Kara and into her living room without an invitation—though Kara would have given one, if she wasn’t so _thrown—_ and sets her bag down on Kara’s island.

“Where have you been?” Cat crosses her arms over her chest, and her loose curls bounce slightly as she leans back against the counter top.

Kara furrows her brows. “Excuse me?”

“You flew out of the office without a word, you disappeared for hours, all to go tackle some alien prisoner down at the harbor.” Cat’s eyes narrow further. “A fact I was only filled in on by James Olsen, who seems to be the only person on your little _team_ ,” she hisses the word, “willing to tell me anything.” 

Kara’s a little taken aback by Cat’s anger, and she gapes for a moment. “Sometimes I have to get to the site fast,” she offers. “I thought we were cool about that? Our deal, about balancing responsibilities?”

It had been the very first thing they’d discussed when Kara had accepted that Cat knew, and would continue to know about her, about _Supergirl_.

“And perhaps you recall the rest of our deal, where I let you keep your job in return for letting CatCo in on these little _events,”_ she waves her hand dismissively, “for the Tribune to cover.” Her eyes widen patronizingly. “Or have you forgotten about that part.”

Still thrown by Cat’s upset, Kara gives a stuttering little laugh. “I remember saying I would give you exclusive interviews occasionally and let you in on the big stuff,” she angles her head, watching as Cat continues to look irritated. “But I don’t recall saying that I would keep you up to date on every little fight, Ms. Grant.”

“It was _implied_.”

“I don’t see how it would have—”

“You don’t trust me.” It’s a bit of a non sequitur, but suddenly Cat’s presence, Cat’s _anger_ starts to click. 

“What?” Cat looks murderous at the thought of repeating herself. “No! I mean, no,” she lowers her voice, and takes a step closer.

This is not something Kara feels _at all_ prepared to handle. She’s dealt with an insecure and regretful Cat before, but it was never about her. About them. Those things always stayed firmly unspoken.

And it was definitely the first time this was happening _in her home_. 

Kara takes another step closer, suddenly feeling very exposed in her comfortable clothes. But Cat is watching her, waiting for a response. “I…I’ve told you how much I need you, Ms. Grant. How,” she swallows, feeling so much more vulnerable saying these words out of the safety of Cat’s glass office, surrounded by people. “How important you are to me.”

Cat’s jaw clenches, and if Kara couldn’t also see the way her lips turn down in the corners so slightly, how her throat moves as she swallows, she would think she’s just angry, instead of seeing that she’s hurt. 

Her eyes look between Kara’s, searching her for something. Finally, she rounds her shoulders and drops her arms from her chest. “What a charming deflection,” she says, and grabs her purse from the table before crossing quickly toward the door. 

Kara’s head is spinning, and she isn’t sure if it’s because she took one too many Vuldarian punches to the head tonight or if it’s all just because of Cat, but she rushes to catch her, hand flying out to the door just as Cat reaches for the knob. “Wait.”

The door thuds shut from the inch or so it had been open, and Cat jerks forward at the force, her other hand coming up to brace her. “Out of the way, _Supergirl,”_ Cat hisses, and tilts her head slightly to glare up at Kara.

They’re close. Like, closer than Cat ever really gets to her, even lately. Instinctively, Kara starts to pull back, to move her hand and let Cat do whatever she wants because that’s kind of their dynamic. 

But Cat’s lip is pulled into a sneer that Kara hasn’t seen in months, she’s had a long day and is exhausted and the thought of taking steps back with Cat is unacceptable. “No,” she says firmly, and if she was at CatCo, if she was wearing her glasses, if Cat didn’t imply so much just by coming here, Kara’s pretty sure she would cave in this moment.

She doesn’t. Instead she rounds her shoulders and stands like Supergirl and presses on the door until she thinks she’s left little indents beneath her fingers. 

Cat’s waiting—impatiently—with her hands still on the door and her tiny shoulders taut and her body angled towards Kara’s to glare. “No, I don’t trust you,” Kara admits, soft but firm, and shame floods her body. 

Honesty was important to their relationship these days—Cat had made that very clear the first few days after she joined the Super Squad—and though Kara’s cheeks are heating with shame, she can’t lie to Cat now. 

“Well,” Cat’s teeth grind before she faces and tugs at the door, ineffective as anything more than a clear message to Kara. “It shows.” Kara doesn’t know how she thought Cat would take the admission, but this isn’t it. 

“Ms. Grant…”

“This was a mistake, Kiera,” Cat bites out. Kara doesn’t know if she means coming here or befriending Kara, but panic starts to rise in Kara’s chest. 

“Please, just let me explain,” she whispers, and Cat stops pulling, but doesn’t look at her. “I know that you get it now, that you know how much I need to be at CatCo, to be with my friends.” _To be with you_ , she wants to say, but her words from earlier touting Cat’s importance were met with anger and Kara doesn’t want that again. “That I can’t be Supergirl all the time. You get it _now_.

“But I can’t stop thinking about you firing me on your balcony,” her voice cracks in the middle, and Cat turns her head a little—doesn’t look at Kara but _acknowledges_ her. Kara starts to relax, and drops her hand from the door to rest at her side. 

Cat doesn’t move to open it. 

“I want to trust you,” she whispers. “More than you know.” Cat tilts her chin up and finally looks Kara in the eye again. Her face is unreadable, patient in that dangerous way, and Kara calls on all of her strength to stay where she is. 

“And perhaps you remember that the first time I trusted _you_ my son ended up in mortal danger,” Cat turns now, dropping to door handle to face Kara fully. Her purse falls from her elbow to drag against her leg.

Kara licks her lips, the earlier shame now joined by guilt, and her stomach roils. “Don’t assume you’re the only one with lingering memories, Kara.”

Cat doesn’t move to open the door again. So Kara reaches out one hand, and settles it on Cat’s wrist. Cat’s gasp is soft, really just a deep breath, but Kara can feel her pulse accelerate at the touch, and when she brushes her thumb over the back of Cat’s wrist she can feel a shiver run through the other woman’s body.

“I’m sorry,” Kara offers, and they’re words she’s said before, words she’s _meant_. But this time they are for Carter, for her words, for her missing trust. 

“I meant it,” Cat whispers, and her voice is so _soft_. Cat looks up from Kara’s hand on her wrist, and her eyes narrow again in evaluation. “You will always have a job with me, Kara.”

She’s heard the words before but this time Kara finally gets the meaning, the implied protection in the sentiment. Hears _I will keep your secret_  so clearly.

It doesn’t fix everything but it soothes a deep part of Kara, and she’s relieved and grateful and so tired that she isn’t really aware of what she’s doing until she presses a kiss to Cat’s cheek. 

It’s chaste, nothing more than a peck, but Cat’s forearm flexes beneath Kara’s fingers as she tenses, and Kara’s lips don’t leave her skin as soon as they should. Instead she lets her nose brush over the soft curve of her cheek in the pretense of pulling away, and tries not to smile at the way she can hear Cat’s heart beat faster.

She’s pulling back slowly, not ready to break contact completely, and her murmured _thank you_ ghosts across the corner of Cat’s mouth. 

Cat’s pulse is thundering beneath her fingers, and the feel of it, the sound, is so loud that she barely processes Cat’s other hand settling on her stomach.

“Stop,” Cat whispers, and Kara doesn’t know if she means touching Cat or pulling away, but she freezes. For a heavy moment, they stay like that: touching, _innocently_ , but on the very edge of inappropriate.

And then Cat’s fingers press into Kara’s t-shirt, and she turns her head, bottom lip brushing over the curve of Kara’s. 

She’s lightheaded again, and this time she is _positive_ it has nothing to do with her Supergirl duties and everything to do with the way her lips start to tingle as Cat’s sweet breath settles over her mouth.

They’re not even kissing yet, not really, and Kara thinks her knees might give out. 

“Do you trust me enough for _this_?” Cat’s question is barely audible, but Kara can feel them settle into her skin and leave her lips dewy. 

Honestly, Kara isn’t sure. And it feels wrong to lie, it feels wrong to stay silent, but Cat slips her hand down until her palm rests on Kara’s navel and she can’t do anything but kiss her in return. 

Cat’s lips part easily, and when Kara takes a breath, Cat tilts her head back and tries to follow Kara’s mouth. “ _Ms. Grant,”_ Kara says softly, pulling back for a moment before she loses control completely. 

When she opens her eyes, Cat’s watching her, expression heavy. Her wrist is still beneath Kara’s hand, and Kara lets it drop, instead reaching for Cat’s arm. It should be safer, less intimate, and allow Kara a chance to regroup. But her dress is sleeveless and she is so soft and Kara can’t help herself from running the pads of her fingers up and down the bared skin.

“Kara,” Cat tries to pull her focus back, and when Kara meets her eyes, Cat reaches up with the hand Kara had been holding. She catches Kara’s chin between here thumb and finger, and her eyes drop down to Kara’s mouth, and then back up. 

She’s waiting for an answer, but Kara just swallows hard. For a moment, Cat’s jaw clenches, just a little twitch that only Kara would see, and then she brushes her thumb over Kara’s bottom lip. “We’ll work on it,” she says, finally, and fists the front of Kara’s shirt until she’s falling against Cat.

Cat’s hand slips behind her neck and her mouth slides against Kara’s, and Kara tells herself that this is a bad idea even as she slips her arms around her waist. 

When Kara tugs Cat against her chest she realizes what a mistake she’s made, starting with that kiss on the cheek—she can’t know what Cat feels like in her arms, warm and soft and responsive, and ever, _ever_  unlearn that.

They’re kissing— _making out—_ in front of her front door and Kara wishes she were smoother, wishes she knew how to move them or talk about this or _something_  but all she can think about is Cat Grant sighing into her mouth.

And then they’re moving anyway, Kara feels herself walking backwards until she’s beside her door and with a gentle shove to her stomach Cat has her back against the wall. 

“Oh!” Kara makes a surprised little noise at how forcefully Cat pins her before she reaches for the hem of Kara’s shirt and starts to pull it up. 

Cat hesitates, raises one brow in question, and Kara licks her lips as she nods sharply. She wants to say _yes_ , to say _please, Cat_ , or _undress me, Ms. Grant_ , maybe, but all she can do is watch Cat smirk at her permission. 

“I’m starting to miss the cardigans,” Cat raises a brow as she fingers the loose t-shirt where Kara has a good feeling she’s found a stain. But when she drags the material up Kara’s stomach her eyes dangerous, like maybe she wouldn’t mind implementing the occasional _very_ casual Friday at CatCo.

And then her shirt is over her breasts, and Cat is nudging her arms away from her so she can lift the tee up and over Kara’s head. “ _Much_  better,” Cat growls, dropping the shirt to the ground and pressing a wet kiss just above the gore of Kara’s bra. 

Kara’s cheeks are on fire, her whole body is warm and her mouth is dry, and when Cat slips her hands up Kara’s back, she thinks she might combust. Cat’s nails scrape gently over her skin, and then they dig in harder, as though Cat remembered Kara is unbreakable under her touch. 

“Take this off, Supergirl,” Cat orders, plucking at the band of the bra once before her hands slide back down to Kara’s lower back. Kara wonders why Cat doesn’t do it herself, but then Cat’s fingers dip below her loose sweatpants, palming Kara’s ass and tugging her hips forward.

She sucks in a breath when Cat’s knee starts to slide between hers, intentions clear. “ _Kara_ ,” Cat warns, and Kara slips her bra off, lets it fall to the floor. Her breasts are bare for only a moment before Cat is whispering _better_ against her skin.

Cat scrapes her teeth over Kara’s breast, licks and sucks her way toward a nipple, and when Cat takes the peak into her mouth, Kara’s hands fall from her back to her hips. She pulls Cat closer, back resting against the wall as her fingers start to ruck up Cat’s dress.

Cool air settles over Kara’s nipple, wet from Cat’s mouth, and she looks down as Cat starts to kiss her way back up Kara’s throat, her nose nuzzling into Kara’s neck for a moment before she murmurs, “ _Higher_.”

Cat’s hips roll forward and she spreads her legs wider, and Kara obeys, tugging at the fabric until she can feel the lace of Cat’s panties. Cat makes a little choked gasp when Kara fingers the leg of the fabric, brushing beneath the material to stroke the skin of her thigh. 

And because there is no barrier of her skirt, Cat retaliates by pressing her thigh against Kara’s center, where she is hot and wet and aching to be touched. 

The pressure is good, is _so good_ , and Cat’s fingers dig into Kara’s ass, pulling her even closer, helping her grind against Cat’s thigh. “ _Cat_ ,” Kara can’t help but moan, and it’s the wrong thing to focus on when they’re like this, but it’s the first time she’s used Cat’s first name to her.

Cat pulls back from her neck, and her lips are swollen and red and _wet._ Kara thinks she should be nervous—OK, _is_ nervous, a little—with the way Cat is looking at her. With the way her hands start to slide out of Kara’s pants, until she’s settling them on either side of Kara’s hips. 

But then Cat’s eyes—dark, _so_ dark for such bright eyes—are dropping to her mouth, and her thumbs push at the sweatpants like she wants them off of Kara _now_. “Again,” Cat says, but it comes out soft, an almost question. A _request_. 

Cat wants to hear Kara say her name, and so she does. “ _Cat_ ,” she whispers it, says it almost reverently. Kara isn’t sure what tonight is supposed to be, somewhere past intimate but shy of full trust, but the way Cat is looking at her—the way she is sure she is looking at Cat—tips the scale an inch further.

Cat pushes as the sweats once more, this time hooking her fingers in and dragging them until the band of Kara’s panties are visible. Using Kara’s hips as leverage, she rolls onto the balls of her feet, needing the extra inch even in heels, to kiss Kara. “ _Again_ ,” she whispers against Kara’s lips, and pushes on her hips like she needs to hold Kara back. 

Maybe she does.

“ _Cat_ ,” she says for the third time, and her name settles nicely over her lips. She likes saying it. She likes when Cat kisses her in reward. She likes when Cat slips her hand into her panties, and when she brushes over Kara’s clit with a firm stroke. 

“ _Ohhh_ ,” she moans, and her eyes slide closed. Cat hums with pride, her fingers moving down to tease at Kara’s entrance before they slip inside. She’s wet, _so slick_ , and she hear just how much when Cat starts to thrust her fingers.

She’s firm and quick and _talented_ , and Kara wants to open her eyes to watch Cat fucking her but she thinks she might come if she does and she wants to make this _last_.

But then Cat starts grinding against her thigh, tugs it up with her free hand until Kara follows the silent directive and sinks down enough to bend her leg, and she breathes a surprised little  _oh_  over Kara’s lips. And _look at me, Kara_  right after.

When she does, she feels her walls flutter over Cat’s fingers—and if she found them distracting _before_  they’d been buried inside her she’s most definitely not ready to see them at work after this—and she opens her eyes.

And Cat looks delicious—seductive and wanton and not quite as perfect as when she’d entered the apartment—but she doesn’t come until she sees Cat’s eyes. Until she sees the blown pupils and deep irises, but mostly, it’s the hint of desperation, of _longing_ , there that sends her over the edge.

Cat settles her own hips as she pumps her fingers and brushes Kara’s clit with her thumb and guides her through the aftershocks. Kara is coming down, her body still jolting with a few sensations as Cat starts to move her hand, and the realization of how this is going to _change things_  starts to set in. 

Because this will. It _has_ to, change things. Even before she kissed Cat, before Cat kissed her, touched her, _fucked_ her, things were going to have to change. 

The endorphins start to ebb and her anxiety starts to climb and she doesn’t know what to _do—_

Cat’s hand withdraws from her panties, letting the fabric settle back against her pelvis with a soft snap. And then she brushes her hand over her navel where she’d started and Kara meets her eyes before Cat shuts them, and leans forward to press a soft kiss to the center of her chest. 

It’s not heated, not anything wet or hot or desperate, but it’s _heavy_. 

Kara’s hand slides up from where she’d been gripping Cat’s skirt, the fabric falling back down, and she brushes the hair back from Cat’s face. Her heart is pounding, she’s certain Cat can feel it with her lips pressed to her skin, and she feels so much more exposed from that than from the cool air on her body. 

She wants Cat to stay. Wants to talk to her about where they are after they’ve touched, after they’ve kissed. Wants to know that Cat isn’t hurt by her lingering distrust. Wants to finish pulling up Cat’s dress and spread her out in her bed for hours.

Her heart continues to pound, and Cat starts to pull back, hands falling from Kara’s body. Kara’s own hand is still tangled in her hair, cupping the back of her head and holding her face up to look at her. 

Kara hesitates a moment, her brewing question hard and heavy and big. _Vulnerable_. But Cat isn’t pulling back. She’s waiting, watching, and Kara wants to try. Wants to trust Cat. Wants to _work on it_. And so she asks, “Will you stay?” 


End file.
